What I Want

The question posed in a recent fine art photography blog: What do you want from a photograph?

I want to swoon a little....

The Japanese have a term-mono no aware-an intersection of life and death,

the awareness of what it is to be human.

I want to see small moments of poetry.

I want the ineffable, the unexplainable.

And dare I say it?

I want beauty. Not pretty, not even gorgeous but the most sublime definition of beauty-

when light and object are framed in a way that illuminates the interior.

Have I asked for too much?

photo credit: Wynn Bullock, Child in Forest

Tilt Gallery – Change and Continuity

Tilt Gallery – Change and Continuity

It isn't Italy but it is home

20 days in a remote village in Italy, walking the hills, yes, but more importantly fetching warm milk and freshly made ricotta from the local farmer, visiting the Osteria in Castelnuovo where they just bring you food-wooden boards filled with home cured meats, local cheeses, bread made with the local farro and potato, fruit and vegetable markets with produce so ripe you need to eat it that day because why would you buy something that you are not going to consume that day?
And let's not forget the cappuccino-you simply cannot find a bad cup in the entire region of Garfagnana, or the daily gelato- frutta di bosco ( fruit of the forest), and Nutella croissants, porcini and truffles tagliatelle....okay, you get the picture. Oh wait, let's not forget the vino locale, hang-over free beverage of the gods.

So, I'm going through a bit of Italy withdrawal but also needing to hit the gym. I decide to try out the turbo cycling class at my gym. Perhaps I can close my eyes and pretend to be one of those cute cyclists you see on the winding roads of Tuscany with their skin tight racer shorts and brightly colored jerseys.

I walk into this dark room pulsating with disco music, a drill sergeant for an instructor and I am back in the saddle. Fifty minutes later, legs a-wobbly, sweat pouring down my face, I realize that life is a balancing act, a series of compare and contrast scenarios that all fit into a life fully realized.

Welcome home.

To see more images from the Art Intersection: Italy 2011 workshop visit: http://artintersectionaz.blogspot.com/

 

This is Mother’s day. A day set aside to honor mothers.

I was mothered for 53 years.

I have mothered for 29 years

I have watched my daughter mother for 8 days.

I didn’t always want to mother and I especially didn’t want to be mothered

for a better part of my life.

But grandmother? It feels different.

Is it possible for unconditional love to grow exponentially? Love x 2?

And yet, this love feels saner, wiser.

The microcosm of mothering gives way to the macrocosm of grand parenting.

Mother nature in all of its wisdom allows for this luxury.

It is luxurious.

Holding her in my arms or better yet to watch my daughter

hold her  is when you begin to feel the weight of the world

give way in deference to the feather weight sensation of hearts

opening wide to receive the gift.

Love.

Ain’t it grand?

Two Pherds

Photographer + Nerd= Pherd

Quinn's cake

Ashley's co-worker is a genius with cake. Can you believe it?

almost

Little over 8 months ago, I found out that my daughter, Ashley, was pregnant. My baby was having a baby?
I am still getting used to this idea. When people ask me about how excited I must be, I think I surprise them when I say I'm terrified. But, it's true. I remember feeling the same way when I was expecting my first born.  Will I know enough? Will I love her enough.
But the moment I laid eyes on her- it was love at first sight. All my worries about knowing enough and loving enough were put aside. That's not to say that I didn't worry. I still worry, every day.
It's what mothers do.
So, as my baby prepares for motherhood, I prepare for grand-motherhood.
Hopefully a little wiser, calmer and with a heart that already understands the concept of unconditional love first hand.

An evening at the museum

It is 4:00 am

Celebrate after the celebration

We celebrate the new year by raising our glasses and shouting the words, mazel tov or salute or cheers.
On this arbitrary day in January, well after the celebrations and the resolutions that have already gone the way of last year's resolutions, I want to remember that each day is a gift.
We are reminded much too often of the tentative nature of life. How quickly and often unfairly it can be taken away.
This from a dear friend who is waging war on cancer:
"One day at a time -- and MAKE SURE THAT YOU ENJOY THIS ONE."

Thinking of you Terry.